


The Days With You

by ffairyy



Category: GOT7
Genre: Gen, Mental Illness, Mental ward AU, Suicide mention, death mention, markjin are best friends, platonic with a hint of a crush, this is different from everything I've ever posted, this is pretty much pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6642463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffairyy/pseuds/ffairyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere between wandering and being lost,<br/>Mark met Jinyoung again ~</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Days With You

**Author's Note:**

> This is for sure the most personal work I've ever posted. Many of the characters are based on real people I met in different hospitals and most of the conversations/happenings are based off my own experience.  
> I had this story in mind for months and I finally finished it.
> 
> It is super angsty, so be warned.  
> Trigger warnings include:
> 
> Mental illness in general, mention of self harm, mention of suicide, death in general, dissociation?- pls tell me if you want me to add another tw!!

**THE DAYS WITH YOU**

_Somewhere between wandering and being lost,_

_Mark met Jinyoung again._

 

**50 Days With You**

The day Mark met Jinyoung again couldn’t have been more casual.  
The way they met again couldn’t have been more memorable.

If you’d ask Mark he could tell you a lot of things that are worse than being in a psychiatry.  
Psychiatry.  
He didn’t like the word.  
Mental ward.  
Cuckoo’s Nest.  
Loony Bin.  
Whatever you want to call it, it’s not that bad.

Yes, he had to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning and yes he was a little overwhelmed by being with so many people and even sharing his room with one of them.  
But it wasn’t that bad.  
The boy he had to share his room with was Jackson and the day Jackson got submitted, Mark knew he finally found something like a friend in this house.  
So he could forgive Jackson the snoring in the night and he could forgive him that he plundered his candy-supply one night and still swore he didn’t do it.  
Because he was the reason Mark gave all of this a chance.

“Mark… hey Mark…” A voice tore him out of his thoughts, “Earth to Mark…”

He looked up from where he sat on his bed, an unopened comic-book in his hand.  
Jackson stood right over him, waving his hands in front of his face.  
Mark looked at him confused.

“It’s lunch time… 1 o’clock? Like always?” Jackson rolled his eyes, “You’d be so lost without me, man…”

 

Mark followed Jackson into the common room, where three tables were set with bread-baskets and cheese and butter and some salad.  
Like always, the noisiness in the room was a little overwhelming for Mark.  
People were always a little too loud, moved a little too hasty.  
His heart was pumping a little faster than necessary and his hands started to get sweaty. But he was used to it. He knew it would be over as soon as he sat down and adjusted into the group.  
Because in the past few weeks he had finally learned to do that.  
Being a part of a group. Sometimes it still felt like a huge act and sometimes he wondered if people actually bought it, but Dr. Stevens said it was okay.  
“Humans are creatures of habit” she had told him, “It’s okay to feel weird when trying something new… soon it will feel common.”  
So Mark did his acting and before he knew it, he was a part of a small group and he wasn’t completely comfortable yet, but he didn’t want to run away either.  
So that was a start.

“Mark… sit with us, bro!” Someone called out.  
Bambam looked at him with a grin, seemingly too big to fit on his face and Mark managed a smile as well.  
He sat down between him and Youngjae.

“You weren’t in music therapy today” Youngjae said.

“I had a medical check… Because of the new meds.” He mumbled.

Mark was already distracted, looking at the amount of food in front of him. Only now he realized how hungry he was.  
But being part of a group meant talking and being there.  
Mark was good at many things, but being there with all his thoughts and heart was something he still had to work on.  
According to Dr. Stevens it was okay. She said things needed time.

“Meds are bullshit…” Jackson blurted out. “All that chemical shit just fucks with your head. You gotta stay organic.”

“But for some people it works.” Youngjae said, “I feel a lot better with my meds.”

“I still don’t get why you’re taking them…” Jaebum said. “I get that Mark takes them… but why you, Youngjae?”

Mark looked up.

What did Jaebum mean by that?

“What do you mean by that?” Youngjae wanted to know.  
Jaebum sighed.  
“Ah forget it… you take your meds.”

And with quiet protest Youngjae let the topic go. But it wasn’t that easy for Mark.  
Because he knew exactly what Jaebum wanted to say.  
He knew.  
Mark has to take meds, because Mark is weird.  
Even in a mental ward Mark managed to be the weird one and he knew that everybody thought so. He could feel it.  
Could see it in their eyes.

“Where are you going, Mark?” Bambam asked.

“Toilet.” He brought out.

And he could hear Youngjae trying to go after him and he could hear Jackson holding him back, because “Mark isn’t a little kid, he can handle it.”

Mark could.  
He had handled this often enough.  
His stomach churning up and his hands getting sweaty and shaky.  
He could handle it.  
The thoughts in his mind that went from zero to ten thousand really quickly.  
The whirlwind in his chest that could only mean that panic was on the way.  
He could handle it.  
Mark had handled these things for years.  
He had been ill since he was thirteen and now he was twenty-three and he was still fighting the same things. He got better at handling them through time.  
He knew Jaebum did nothing wrong, but his body didn’t.  
His body screamed and ached and bombarded him with thoughts.  
You’re weird.  
Everyone hates you.  
Don’t annoy us.  
Everything is your fault.  
Weirdo.  
Why are you alive?

The thoughts kept streaming in and like so often there was no switch, no stop button.  
So Mark hurried to the toilets like he often had and as soon as the door was closed behind him, he let go.  
His breath was getting out of control so quickly, it was coming hard and hectically and Mark leaned against the sink and avoided looking into the mirror.  
He didn’t look good during a panic attack.  
Nobody did.

“Everyone hates me” he breathed, “Why am I here”  
He panted all those words like a healing mantra, repeating them over and over again, just as they came.  
Dr. Stevens said it was alright. If he had to say those things out loud, it was okay.  
It didn’t make them truer, she said.  
But they felt true.  
They felt like the truest thing in the world.

He felt tears streaming into his eyes and shut them.  
When a voice got through to him.

“Hey...do you need help?”

Mark jerked his head up. He was startled.

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna surprise you.” The same calm voice said. Mark’s sight was blurry, but he saw a young man with dark hair standing in front of him, carefully getting closer.  
“Is there something I can do…?” He said.

“No.” Mark panted, “No, sorry…I… sorry.”

“Shhhh… hey…” the voice said. It was a soothing voice and so calm. Mark didn’t know how, but he didn’t freak out when a hand started to rub little circles into the small of his back.  
Slowly.  
He actually managed to stand still and the circles slowly lulled him into a slower breathing rhythm.

“It’s alright… it’s okay… you’re not alone…” The guy said.

But Mark didn’t listen to the words. He just took that soothing voice in and was in awe, when the waves of stress and pressure in his body got smaller and shorter. Less overwhelming.  
Something about that voice felt warm and familiar.  
The huge waves of panic turned into a regularly calmer getting sea.  
“Is it getting better…?” The voice wanted to know.

“Yeah… I guess…”

So Mark dared to open his eyes and when he looked up again, he saw careful eyes mustering him.  
Something about those eyes made Mark look closer. He nearly got a little lost in their blackness.

“Do I...know you?” he heard himself ask.

The boy looked at him for a moment, when suddenly his eyes got wider.

“No way…” he breathed out, “Mark? Is this you?”

“Jinyoungie?” Mark couldn’t believe his eyes. “Oh my god… it’s you, right?”

But before he got an answer, two arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer and pressing the air out of his chest.  
So much warmth around him.

Then he heard a familiar soft chuckle.  
“Out of all the places… I can’t believe I meet you here again.”

How ironic was it to meet your best friend of childhood days in a mental ward?  
After all those years of silence.

“I missed you so much.” Jinyoung laughed into his shoulder.

“I missed you, too.”

 

**31 Days With You**

 

When Mark got out of bed, the first thing he thought was “Jinyoung”.  
He had spent every single free minute of the past days with him.  
And it changed everything.  
It changed the way he got out of bed and it changed the way he fell asleep.  
As if Jinyoung was the missing tutorial to finally relaxing a little bit.  
He even remembered going to dinner in time, because then he would see him again, could talk to him again.  
But mostly.  
Watching him again.  
Listening to his voice again.  
Jinyoung was one of a kind- always had been.  
He barely talked, but the things he did, he did carefully and precise.  
Most of the time he did them with concentration in his eyes. There was some kind of energy flowing out of his pores that made everything he did seem important.  
So Mark couldn’t take his eyes off him. What if he missed one of the important things he did?  
The way he smiled and nodded when others were speaking and the way he was hurt for a split second when there weren’t enough chairs around. Mark just watched him get his own and he wanted to apologize for his friends. Because he knew Jinyoung had his pride.  
But he didn’t get the words out.  
And Jinyoung had the ability to make everything around him unimportant, nearly irrelevant.  
When he was around, the other people melted to a muffled talking, bickering mass that would never get Mark’s attention the way Jinyoung’s silence did.

The group wasn’t half as intimidating with an old friend by his side. The evenings weren’t half as sad when he sat with him in the showers and talked about old times and childhood adventures.  
And while the others watched in confusion how Mark and Jinyoung talked and laughed about things they had no idea of, he didn’t feel half as weird anymore. Because this was the proof that he had friends, who obviously loved him.

 

When breakfast was done with, Mark and Jinyoung sat on the floor in the showers again.

“Yugyeom is visiting today.” Mark told him. Jinyoung knew his little brother well.

“Really?” Jinyoung smiled warmly. “I can’t wait to see him again!”

“He was so shocked when I told him about you on the phone… like… he didn’t even believe me!” Mark grinned.

“Did he grow up a lot?” Jinyoung asked.

“He’s taller than me now!” Mark exclaimed, excitedly standing up and reaching for the ceiling, showing him how tall his little brother got.  
Exaggerating just a little bit.  
Jinyoung just laughed softly, like he always had and Mark’s smiled at him proudly.  
-

Mark waited impatiently until Yugyeom and his parents got out of their update session with Dr. Stevens and his fingers were tapping unclear rhythms on the table. His fingers made him nervous, but they were moving on their own, not even asking for permission.  
But Jinyoung laid his hand on top of Mark’s and made him calm down again.  
Mark smiled thankfully.  
-

Being reunited with Jinyoung and Yugyeom was weird.  
Not as easy as Mark would have thought.  
Yugyeom barely talked. Mark wondered why he was so distant, but it was okay.  
They were never as close as him and Jinyoung.

When they were gone again, Mark was a little bit disappointed.

“Y’know I always had the feeling he doesn’t like me that much… I used to steal his big brother away from him, right?” Jinyoung smiled.

“Yeah… And you’re doing it again.” Mark grinned.

 

**28 Days With You**

On a Wednesday Jaebum and Mark clashed.  
They had dish-washing duty after lunch.

Jaebum stood beside him, with a kitchen towel in his hand, waiting for Mark to clean up another plate.  
“Can you hurry up a bit? I wanna finish this today…” He said.

“I’m trying.” Mark’s heart was beating faster already. It made him nervous to be alone with Jaebum.  
They were friends. But mostly because they liked the same people. Mark was convinced that Jaebum wouldn’t even talk to him if he didn’t have to.

He hurried up and scrubbed the plate in his hand quicker. The next moment it slipped out of his hand, falling down onto the pile of dirty dishes with a dramatic bang.  
It didn’t break.

“Jesus Christ, Mark…” Jaebum huffed, “You’re like a little child.” He shoved him aside and simply took the plate out of the sink again.  
He started cleaning it fast and precisely.  
Mark’s chest was churning up again. His mouth getting dry.

“I’m not…” He heard himself mumble, “I’m older than you.”

Jaebum turned around and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  
Mark regretted saying anything at all. Sometimes you better keep your mouth shut if you’re not able to handle the backlash of your words. Other people’s reaction made talking as scary as it was.

“Are you sure about that?” He spit out, “You act like a five year old.”  
“I’m not.” Mark said. His hands started shaking and he felt his eyes getting watery.  
No.  
Don’t cry now.

That’s when Jackson came in.

“Are you guys still not done?” He wondered. “Do you need a hand?”  
-

“Do you think I’m a little kid?” Mark leaned back against the dry shower wall.

“No…Why would I think that?” Jinyoung asked back.

“Jaebum said that.” Mark smiled sadly. “I think he’s right…”

“No… you’re ill, you know… and dependent for now… but you’re not a child.” Jinyoung looked at the ceiling as if he was searching for inspiration there.  
“Actually… I feel like you grew up a lot since I saw you last.”

Mark hummed.

“Do you remember…” Jinyoung suddenly smiled, “When we spent the night in that barn near my house?”

“Yeah… we talked our parents into it and they gave us blankets and snacks… “

“Ah you’re right…I forgot about all the snacks. It was so cold and I really wanted to go back inside…”

“Me too” Mark started to giggle, “But I wanted to be cool for you…”

Jinyoung laughed, covering his mouth with his hand and Mark watched the wrinkles under his eyes move. That sound made his chest feel warm.

“Why?” Jinyoung wanted to know, “Why did you want to be cool for me?”

Mark felt the heat stream into his face. Did he really say that?

“Just… because I’m older…,” he mumbled.

“Right…You were really cool.”

Jinyoung casually rested his head on Mark’s shoulder and Mark closed his eyes for a moment.  
It felt nice, that weight.

 

**25 Days With You**

The days seemed to fly with Jinyoung by his side.  
There was so much to talk about and it didn’t feel hard to speak when he was listening. Not as difficult and he didn’t have to force the words to finally leave his throat.  
The words left his lips fearlessly, because they knew Jinyoung would catch them and take good care of them.  
He would never mistreat them.

Mark and Jinyoung seemed to connect where they had parted all those years ago and the memory made Mark feel healthier than he had felt in years.  
When you’re ill for a long time, you forget what it feels like to be healthy. To be able to do things without always considering the flaw in your code.  
Mark knew it wasn’t that easy, but every hour he spent with Jinyoung made him feel like recovery was possible.  
Like maybe all those doctors who said he would never live without this overwhelming army of symptoms- that maybe they were wrong.  
They had to be wrong.

Mark liked to think there were lots of strings in his body and some of them had been ripped at some point or had always been connected wrongly. And he knew he couldn’t just reach inside and make the right knots at the right places, but while the days with Jinyoung flew by, he started to think that maybe they weren’t all that bad. Maybe it was perfectly fine that some strings inside of him would never connect. Maybe it was okay that they made him feel illogical things.  
Maybe feelings as they were had to be illogical sometimes.  
And maybe it was okay that Mark wanted to cry when someone looked at him weirdly. Maybe it was okay that he felt panic dwell up inside of him whenever someone asked him a question.  
Maybe his strings weren’t connected wrongly.  
Maybe just differently.

They met in the showers in the middle of the night.  
During the day they had plotted to meet at midnight and then punctual to the second, Mark sneaked out of his room with his pajama pockets full of chocolate and he had to force himself to keep his giggling down, when he saw Jinyoung at the end of the corridor, his pockets also stuffed.

It was only possible, because the night watch was Mrs. Kim, Mark’s favorite and because she liked him a lot.  
Mark talked to her even more than to Dr. Stevens.  
Mark was sure she saw them sneaking out, but for some reason she acted like she didn’t. Maybe she just wanted to watch her movie in peace, maybe she remembered the way Mark talked about Jinyoung.  
It was embarrassing to think about it, but Mark was always smiling when talking about Jinyoung.  
Mrs. Kim told him she never saw him smile this much. She also told him he had a pretty smile, so Mark tried to smile more often when she was around.

When the two boys finally sat on the little steps that led into the showers, their candy laid out in front of them, Mark talked again.

“Sometimes I don’t know what’s me and what’s the illness…” he wondered and the thought didn’t stress him as much as usual. He felt like he was okay with whatever Jinyoung’s response would be. He would find a way to be okay with Jinyoung’s answers and Jinyoung’s view on things. The things Jinyoung said had a way of becoming things Mark wanted to believe in.  
Jinyoung hummed.

“What do you mean?” he said with his voice kept down.

“Like… the panic isn’t me… I know that…” Mark explained, “But the way I handle things… is that me? The way I think about stuff…”

Jinyoung played around with the candy on the floor, building little armies of gummy bears, sorted by color.  
He didn’t really eat any of them, but it was okay.  
Mark neither.  
Being with Jinyoung made it unnecessary to stuff his face with sweet stuff. To fill a hole inside his stomach with food.  
He simply didn’t need it, when Jinyoung was around.

“I don’t know… maybe illness brings out things that would be there anyway…just out of proportion and more painful…” then, as if it there were more important things in his mind, Jinyoung sighed.  
“You know what makes me sad, Mark?”

“What?”

“Nobody really gets how smart you are. You should tell people about all the things you think about.”

“They would never understand…” Mark smiled. “That’s why I’m talking to you.”

When Mark looked to his side, Jinyoung had his head comfortably resting on his knees, his arms wrapped around them. He looked a little tired, but it was the middle of the night after all.  
His exhaustion didn’t make the wrinkles by his eyes less pretty.  
Didn’t make his soft skin look less child-like.  
After all- Jinyoung had to have his reason to be here, right?  
In all those days with him, it was the only thing Mark didn’t dare to ask. It was the one answer that he didn’t feel ready for. He didn’t want to hear about the weight on Jinyoung’s shoulders that was heavy enough to get him here.  
Mark felt like a coward, whenever he wanted to ask him, but didn’t. He was truly afraid of the answer, because Jinyoung had become someone he looked up to. Someone who had the right words at the right times and someone to lead his way.  
He was afraid of seeing him vulnerable.  
He wasn’t ready to see him break.  
Because hearing people talk about their struggles made them human and Mark was terrified of Jinyoung being human. Human beings are tragic and cruel and pitiful. Mark never wanted to see Jinyoung this way.

After an hour or so Mrs. Kim knocked at the door to the bathrooms.  
“You’re taking quite long in here, Mark! Diarrhea?”

“No.” He giggled, “Jinyoung’s with me.”

That’s when she opened the door and Mark looked up at her innocently.  
Her smile got softer.

“But now back to bed…Tomorrow is garden therapy, you want to be well rested.”

“Oh. It’s Jinyoung’s first time in Garden Therapy.” Mark said in excitement.

“Then he better goes to sleep, too.”

**23 Days With You**

  
Mark loved Garden therapy.  
Before he got submitted to this hospital, he had never really touched a plant. Simply because he never really had the chance to and he didn’t have the desire to.  
But the small clinic garden had turned into one of his favorite places in the entire world.  
He knew every last little corner and he even started to learn the names of all the plants around him. There was always something to do.

One time he had to unearth an old root from an apple tree together with Youngjae and Jackson and it was such a chaos.  
In his typical loud way, Youngjae complained about how exhausting that work was, but nobody really believed him, because he interrupted his own complaints with loud laughter and his smile was brighter than the sun.

Mark and Youngjae worked well together. The boy was one of the rare people who didn’t complain about Mark’s ways. About his quietness, about his vulnerability, not even about the way he didn’t laugh at jokes if he didn’t find them funny.  
Youngjae just worked with what Mark had to offer and never made fun of him.  
Maybe he didn’t even do it deliberately, but Mark counted little sympathy points for every time he chose to not make a joke at his expense, when the chance was there.  
Mark was just not really sure why the boy was here.  
ADHD Youngjae had explained. Mark didn’t really know what to do with that information.  
He didn’t want to know what the doctors called it. He wanted to know why Youngjae thought he was here.  
Why he needed help.  
Why he was unable to help himself to the point where he couldn’t function in society anymore.

So he asked him that day, while they sat on the huge root they just freed from the ground.  
Youngjae was eating a carrot he had just picked on the vegetable patch next to them.

“I didn’t feel well…I went to school and all and the teachers complained a lot about me…”  
Mark nodded.  
Not because he understood, because teachers had never complained about him. They just tended to forget his name.  
He nodded because he wanted him to keep talking.  
Sometimes it doesn’t need an answer. People shouldn’t listen to answer, if you’d ask Mark. They should listen to understand better. Or to accept. Or to hear someone’s voice. Or to give another person space. To get closer to someone.  
Answering was overrated. Mark found that answers could be really discouraging. Sometimes he took answers as a sign that he had talked too much.  
That’s why he often just nodded, when someone was talking.

“Y’know sometimes there’s a lot of pressure in me… and I can’t handle it. Sometimes I freaked out in school.” Youngjae plucked fluff from his jeans; he didn’t look at Mark while he was talking.  
Another really overrated thing was looking at each other.  
“I get really stressed sometimes, y’know… and I don’t really know what to do with it… I used to hurt myself…but I don’t do that anymore.”

This time Mark nodded, because he understood. What was it about hurting yourself that made so much sense to him?

“But you still have the urge.” Mark said. It wasn’t a question.

“Every day.” Youngjae smiled sadly.

“But you stopped….” Mark wondered, “Why?”

“Because people say it’s not good… they say it’s wrong…my mom cried when she found out.”

Mark nodded.

If anything ever came out of all of Mark’s observations in everyday life it was that people hurt themselves in many ways.  
You don’t have to cut yourself or burn yourself or stop eating to hurt yourself.

Mark saw it in everyone.  
In confident people and people with low self esteem. He saw it in quiet people and in loud ones. He saw it in calm personalities and turbulent ones.  
He saw it in Jackson and he saw it in Jaebum.

The untrained eye wouldn’t always recognize self harm, but it was everywhere.  
In the way people didn’t say no, when they felt like it. In the way people said yes when their body advised them otherwise.  
The way people offered an open ear when they didn’t have the energy to listen. The way people denied themselves things they wanted.  
The way they didn’t take a day off when they were sick.  
The way people said sorry for things they didn’t have to apologize for. All of those little things looked a lot like self harm to Mark.  
He didn’t really understand why people made a big deal out of it as soon as it involved physical pain. Or visible scars.

Dr. Stevens once told him that people did many of those things out of love. Listening to others when you’re tired or denying themselves things for others.  
But Mark didn’t quite understand what she was trying to tell him.  
Wasn’t loving people just another form of self harm?

-

Jinyoung’s first time in Garden therapy was more exciting for Mark than for him. He wanted to show him everything.  
The patch with tomatoes and cucumbers, which he had helped digging up and sowing and where small little plants were already growing out of the ground.  
Mark was stunned.  
He had brought life to this earth and he couldn’t have been prouder of that.  
He showed him the flower patch and he showed him how to bind a bouquet, because sometimes on the weekends elders from the village came to the garden and bought floral bouquets from them.

The garden-therapist once told Mark to take over the counter, but he panicked and since then he was the one responsible for binding the bouquets. He was allowed to choose the flowers and it was his job to make them look good together.  
And sometimes they looked good together, but he loosened the ribbon again, because it didn’t feel like the flowers really fit. They looked good together, but Mark wasn’t sure if they got along, so he settled for less pretty combinations, when he had to.  
He needed it to feel right, rather than to look nice.

Jinyoung was a natural talent.  
His bouquets always felt right.

Then he showed him everything the therapist had showed him when he was new. He was one of his favorite people in this hospital.  
Mr. Hayes.  
A man with grey turning hair and wrinkles all over his face. They didn’t make him look old though, they mostly made him look gentle.  
And he liked to make cheesy comparisons about therapy and nature and while some of the patients cringed or rolled their eyes because of that, Mark secretly really liked them.  
One day he told them “Life handles us the way it handles plants. It makes us riper through a bit of frosts .”

Mark wondered if he believed in the words he told them or if they just sounded nice.  
-

Mark caught himself working harder in therapy than usually, because he wanted to tell Jinyoung about his little successes.

He sat next to him in art therapy.  
Mark wasn’t good at drawing, but he liked it. Art therapy was his second favorite.  
Everyone was allowed to sit in silence and let their thoughts wander and it was okay to daydream a little.  
He drew and drew and whenever he tried to look over to Jinyoung’s paper, that one blocked his view, holding his hands over the drawing.

“It’s not done yet!” He grinned.

Mark drew the barn from their childhood.  
There was hay and there were wooden walls and all those colorful blankets and all the snacks.  
He drew them in warm colors, lots of red, lots of yellow and a little bit of purple, because he knew it was Jinyoung’s favorite color.  
He drew them as boys lying side by side, laughing in the dark.  
To others it probably wasn’t really clear what his drawing showed, because he wasn’t very skilled, but he was sure Jinyoung would understand.

After half an hour of silence, Jinyoung took his paper in his hands and nodded.

When Mark was finally allowed to look at Jinyoung’s drawing, he saw the same barn and the same hay rolls, just in slightly different colors and forms. Not everything was at the same place, but it still resembled the memory in Mark’s heart.  
And on a little hay roll there were him and Jinyoung and the little drawn children held hands.

 

**21 Days With You**

On a Sunday, Yugyeom was visiting again.  
This time he and Mark sat alone in his room.

“How’s things at home?” Mark wanted to know. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed, where Yugyeom was splayed out. He was looking through Mark’s therapy schedule.

“It’s alright…they talk a lot about you.” Yugyeom shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

“But they still help you with school, right?” Mark said.

“I don’t really need help. It’s alright…”

They sat there in silence for a while and Mark’s stomach was acting up.

“I’m sorry I am like this…” He said after a while.

“It’s okay… you know I love you…” Yugyeom grinned.

“I love you, too.”

Yugyeom sat up on Mark’s bed.

“How are you doing?” The tone in Yugyeom’s voice bothered Mark. He sounded worried, like a big brother. That was Mark’s job.  
But he knew he was bad at it.

“I’m doing good. So much better since Jinyoung is here…” Mark smiled, “Isn’t it amazing that he’s here?”

“Yeah… it is.” Yugyeom said, “But he’s always been good for you…”  
Mark wanted to tell him about all the memories they had revived and all the things they had talked about, but he didn’t.  
It should be the little brothers who tell stories in excitement.

So he listened to the things Yugyeom told him. About school and how hard studying was.  
He told him that he started taking driving lessons and that he found a girl he liked.  
It was like listening to a grown up. It was the life of a healthy person.  
It made Mark sad, because he wasn’t part of this world.  
And he probably never would be.

-

Later that day he sat with Jinyoung in the showers and he told him about Yugyeom’s grown up world.  
Jinyoung sat back to back with him, gently pressing his weight against Mark’s body.  
“He didn’t mean to make you feel small…” Jinyoung said.

“I know… I should be proud of him” Mark sighed, “but compared to him I’m such a loser.”

“You’re not a loser.” Jinyoung said, “You’re just different from him. There’s no wrong way to be human.”  
And Mark didn’t know how or when it happened, but a few minutes later, Jinyoung held his hand in his.  
Still sitting back to back.  
And his thumb drew little patterns on the back of Mark’s hand.

Mark wondered if this was how it felt like to be at peace with yourself. Even if it was just for a moment.

 

**19 Days With You**

Jinyoung was taking up a huge part of Mark’s mind lately.  
On a Tuesday evening he was on a walk with Jackson. They had an hour until they had to be back in the hospital. Just enough time to go down to the lake, sit down for ten minutes and walk back up the hill, where the hospital was.  
Mark wasn’t allowed to go out alone, but with Jackson it was no problem.  
And usually more fun.  
Jackson was walking besides him, talking about so many things and Mark tried to listen, but all he could think of was Jinyoung.  
He wondered what he did without him in the clinic. Jinyoung didn’t really have friends yet. He spent most of his time with Mark, but it was okay, because he was still new.

“So I really don’t know why I’m here in the first place.” Jackson concluded.

“I thought you were burned out?” Mark asked.

“What even is burn out?” Jackson asked back dramatically, “Do you know how much school stuff I miss while I’m here? I do not have time for burn out.”

Maybe that is the point, Mark thought. But he didn’t dare to say it.

“So… what kinda guy is Jinyoung?” Jackson asked after a short silence.  
“Jinyoungie?” Mark was perplexed. “Uh…he’s really smart… and kind… and caring…”

They had arrived at the lake and the sun was already setting. Jackson offered to lay his jacket on the wet pebble beach for them to sit on. Mark wondered if he should consider this another tiny sign of self harm. Or was it love that made him do it?

“You like him a lot, right?” Jackson said. Mark was surprised at how soft his facial expression was. The typical sharpness in his tone was nowhere to be found.

“I…Uh…” Mark stumbled over his words. He wasn’t prepared to talk about Jinyoung. He wasn’t in the group that much and Mark felt like Jinyoung was too quiet to really spark their interest.  
“I’ve known him forever…” He said.

“Yeah… you said that…” Jackson smiled, “Just don’t forget that you have us, too.”  
-  
“Maybe he’s jealous.” Jinyoung grinned mischievously, “I kinda stole you from him, too.”

“You didn’t steal me…” Mark smiled, “I just like you more… I’ve only known him for a few months.”

“I see… “  
“And he’s demanding…” Mark sighed, “But you are…”

He stopped talking and straightened his back.

“I’m what, Markie?” The nickname brought back so many memories.  
Jinyoung softly poked his side and there was that familiar weight on his shoulder again. Jinyoung leaned onto him casually.

“You’re…I don’t know.” Mark brought out.

You make my heart calm again.  
You’re like my medicine.

Mark said none of those things.  
His voice didn’t cooperate.

Jinyoung laughed and Mark felt his shoulder vibrate slightly.  
“ You’ve always been like this… starting sentences and ending them on a cliffhanger…”

“Sorry.” Mark mumbled.

“It’s okay. I like open endings.” Jinyoung smiled.

 

**16 Days With You**

The atmosphere during lunch was tense.  
A patient was close to his discharge and Jaebum had just come out of a therapy session with his mother.  
Mark didn’t see her around often. He knew Jaebum’s family lived further away than most of the others’.  
He had never seen his father around.  
When Jaebum was angry, the whole station knew about it. Because it was like dark sparks were flashing out of his pores and it churned up the air.  
Mark realized that Jaebum wore his heart on his sleeve, too.  
Maybe even more than Mark.  
Maybe just in a completely different way.

“Can I go to my room…?” Jaebum huffed, without looking at the guardian he was talking to. Mark was getting anxious seeing him like that.  
With his teeth pressed together and his hands clenched to fists.

“No, Jaebum… You can go when everyone goes,” said the young man to his right. His voice so calm, it annoyed Mark. It was like he enjoyed the power he had.  
It was like he wanted to tease Jaebum, when that one obviously just wanted to avoid throwing a tantrum in the Common room.

“I’m finished eating.” Jaebum hissed, “Why can’t you just let me go.”

“It’s just polite to wait until everyone is finished, don’t you think?” The man said.

Mark saw Bambam rolling his eyes. Some guardians really just used those rules to show their power over the patients.

They finished eating. The other two tables were busy with awkward forced communication, while Mark’s table was sitting in silence. They could nearly hear Jaebum seething though.

After lunch they got ready for garden therapy once again and Mark was already getting excited. He watched Jinyoung walking with the rest of them. Mark liked to watch him from afar.

That’s when he remembered that Mr. Hayes had given him homework for the day. He told him to write a few sentences about the topic “inner landscapes” and while Mark first didn’t know what to write, he managed to fill a whole page with comparisons of the human mind to different kinds of landscapes on the earth. He was actually quite proud of the result and he definitely wanted him to read it. And maybe show it to Jinyoung afterwards.  
But it was still sitting on his bed, where he had written it.

So when he arrived at the garden down the hill, he excused himself and explained that he needed to go back.  
He was allowed to walk that little distance alone.

So he walked back to the clinic at a smart pace and rushed up the stairs.  
His station was weirdly silent with everyone in different therapies and he quickly hurried by the staffroom to grab the paper on his bed.

When he heard a loud bang from the room next to his.  
Mark stood still and quiet. Then another bang.  
Jaebum’s room.  
Mark walked out the door and stood in front of Jaebum’s.  
He could easily turn around.  
Everything inside of him wanted to.  
To go back into the garden where all of his favorite work and Jinyoung waited for him.  
But something inside of him didn’t let him. And Mark wondered if it was more than pure curiosity that made him open the door.

He had never seen Jaebum like that.  
Yes, he had seen him angry, but this was more.  
More anger than Mark had ever seen stream out of Jaebum. And it was mixed with something else.  
Was it desperation?

His hand clenched to a fist it flew through the air and punched right into the wall. The sound was horrifying.

“Jaebum, oh my god,” Mark called out.  
His feet were moving before he could think about it and he arrived at Jaebum’s side just in time to stop him from throwing another punch.  
A little red clot of blood was dripping from his knuckles.  
Mark’s heart was racing.  
He mindlessly reached out to grab Jaebum’s other hand, too, before he could hurt himself more.  
Mark’s stomach was acting up, when he forcefully had to drag Jaebum away from the wall, where he tried to hide his face.  
When he turned him around, Mark’s breath hitched.  
Jaebum was crying.  
His face was wet and screwed up into a grimace.  
He had his eyes shut.

Mark wanted to say something, wanted to ask what happened. Wanted to tell him it’s okay that he saw him like that. But Jaebum’s face was already drowning in shame and then he let go.

“Fuck… Everything’s so fucked up.” Jaebum cursed and first sobs shook his chest. His voice didn’t even sound like Jaebum’s voice.  
It sounded vulnerable and shaky.  
Mark still held his wrists in a tight grip, but Jaebum’s hands started to relax.  
Then the boy let himself sink down to the floor and Mark followed him.

“I hate this place,” Jaebum yelled, “I hate this world!”  
Mark’s heart was racing and he forced the panic that tried to come up in him down and back into his stomach.  
It remained as a slight feeling of sickness and tension.

Mark looked at him with big eyes. He did the only thing he knew how to do.  
He nodded.  
And for some reason Jaebum didn’t punch him in the face for that. He kept talking.

“This fucking bastard just left me alone.” More tears found their way out of his eyes, “He just left me in this bullshit world with this bullshit woman…”

He stopped talking when more sobs broke his voice.

“He didn’t give a shit about me.” Jaebum screamed, “Nobody gives a shit about me.”  
Jaebum threw his head back against the wall, but there wasn’t half of the strength from before left in the act. The back of his head hit the wall with a dull bang.

Mark was horrified. He watched Jaebum’s face explode with pain and he felt his own chest hurting from the view.  
I do.  
I give a shit about you.

But Mark’s words were stuck somewhere in his throat, next to the lump that was blocking his airways.

He couldn’t say anything and Jaebum didn’t seem to wait for an answer.  
So Mark did the only thing that came into his mind.

He pulled Jaebum into his arms and wrapped them tightly around him, maybe a bit too tightly.  
Maybe just tightly enough so the boy couldn’t fall apart in his arms.  
And he didn’t push him away, like Mark thought he would.  
Mark felt him sobbing on his chest and he felt Jaebum’s fingers claw into the flesh of his thighs, but it was okay. That little pain was nothing compared to the pain that vibrated in Jaebum’s body. It was so difficult to hold him with all that pain. It felt like hugging a time bomb.  
It must have been even more difficult to have that bomb inside yourself.

At some point Mark saw the guardian from lunch standing in the door frame, but Mark shook his head and he left again. Sometimes it was a good thing that not everyone was professional in this place.  
Sometimes two broken kids had a better chance to care for each other than any professional ever could.  
And after a while Jaebum freed himself out of Mark’s grip and buried his face in his hands instead, steadying them on his knees.  
It seemed to be important to him that Mark didn’t look at his face. So Mark looked at the ground instead. Now and then he glanced at the drying blood on Jaebum’s hand, but he knew it wasn’t the time to start patching him up.  
That was not Mark’s quest right now. His quest was to sit with him and listen to the words that made no sense to him, but which probably held a lot of importance to Jaebum and once again he didn’t try to think of answers.

Mark figured Jaebum was talking about his mother whenever he said “this bullshit woman” and he said it a lot.  
There was hate speaking and Mark didn’t know where it came from, but he could nearly grab it. He was sure the hate wasn’t there without reasons.  
And Mark figured he talked about his dad, too, but there was no hate when he talked about “that fucking bastard”. There was nothing but love and anger and confusion and Jaebum looked a little bit like a little child, when he cursed between sobs and when he asked Mark, “Why…Why do people just leave?”

Mark had no answer to that.

 

-

Things didn’t really change between Mark and Jaebum. Not visibly.  
But Mark didn’t panic any more when he was alone with him and Jaebum never called Mark a little kid again.  
They never really addressed what happened in his room, but Mark knew Jaebum wouldn’t forget.  
Maybe it was a bit of love that made Mark open the door to see the storm that was raging in Jaebum’s room. Maybe it was a little bit of self harm.  
And maybe it was just the hope that Mark wasn’t the only one who had trouble handling the world he was given.  
When he told Jinyoung about it, that one didn’t seem surprised.

“People like Jaebum…” he said, “They’re the loneliest… because everyone thinks they’re aggressive, while they’re just hurt. Nobody is angry without a reason.”  
And Mark figured that the strings inside of him that were responsible for anger had been ripped at an early age.  
Or maybe they never really connected. Mark couldn’t really remember when he was angry the last time.  
Dr. Stevens said that there was anger in Mark, but it was hidden beneath layers and layers of prettier emotions, like sadness.  
Society can handle a sad person, or an anxious person to some extent. It’s socially acceptable to be sad, because it just hurts yourself, it’s passive and mostly quiet.  
People don’t like anger.  
They’re easily offended by it and they’re scared of it.

Mark thought that Jaebum was really brave to show anger, even though it’s ugly, while most people didn’t dare to, even if it eats them up alive.  
Or maybe under all of Jaebum’s anger there was lying something else that he feared more than all the anger in the world.

 

**13 Days With You**

Mark didn’t like Mondays. Mondays were full of his least favorite therapies.  
Music therapy wasn’t half as good as it sounded.  
It was loud and chaotic and it didn’t help that most of them didn’t even know how to play an instrument.  
Mark was sitting somewhere a little bit outside of their circle and he tried playing the xylophone but all of the drums around him were drowning his melodies out.

They were already ten minutes into the session and Youngjae was still nowhere to be found.  
Mark knew Music Therapy was his favorite, so he kept looking to the door, expecting Youngjae to tear it open, completely out of breath and apologizing hysterically, but nothing of that kind happened.  
So Mark tapped Bambam, who sat in front of him, on the shoulder and asked why Youngjae wasn’t coming.

“Oh I heard he’s been taken to the hospital…” Bambam said. His words barely audible over all of that noise, “He needed some stitches...”

Mark swallowed.  
He really, really didn’t like Music Therapy.  
-  
At the dinner table Youngjae sat with them again, like usually.  
Mark smiled at him shyly and Youngjae smiled back. He was his old sunshiny self and Mark felt like he was talking to a doll. He wondered how many layers of makeup it took to hide the pain he must’ve gone through.  
He found himself glancing down at Youngjae’s arms, but he wore long sleeves, like he always did. Mark had seen his scars before, because his first two weeks they shared a room.  
He had seen how many of them there were and how newer ones overlapped older ones.  
Youngjae had once jokingly said that he knew he looked like a chopping board and one or two people tried to laugh, but Mark had the habit not to laugh when he didn’t find something funny.  
And looking at Youngjae’s arms still made Mark’s head hurt. Because it made him wonder why it had to be so hard to be human and why it was people as gentle and peaceful as Youngjae who ended up with a war inside themselves that could only be taken out on their bodies.  
It bothered Mark that he would never get an answer to some of his questions.

“I think it’s my fault that he started again.” Mark said, while he traced the tiles of the shower wall with his fingers.  
“Why?” Jinyoung wondered.  
He wasn’t sitting beside him, but looking out of the huge window from where they could see the lake at the bottom of the hill.  
“Because I asked him why he stopped, but I didn’t mean it like that…” Mark said, “I just wanted to know.”

“You’re really smart, Markie… you should know that this isn’t because of you.” Jinyoung smiled softly and then turned to the window again, “It’s probably because he doesn’t really have his own reasons to stop and you don’t just cure an addiction by doing what others tell you to do…”  
It was raining outside and Mark found that the drops sounded especially depressing, because they were hitting against the bars in front of the window.

“Did someone kill themselves while they were here?” Jinyoung suddenly asked.  
Mark looked at him, only his back and his black shock of hair blocking the view out of the window.

“Three people. Mrs. Kim told us once.” Mark told him, “And the first one was a girl, ten years ago when they didn’t have the bars yet and she said she jumped out the window in the common room, while her guardian stood at the end of the room.”

“Shit.” Jinyoung breathed. “That’s not how I’d wanna go.”

Mark looked at him for a moment and he found it hard to breathe.  
  
“Me neither.”

 

**10 Days With You**

When Yugyeom was visiting him the next time, he was there without his parents.  
“Do they know you’re here?” Mark wanted to know.

“Yeah, I took the train…” Yugyeom rolled his eyes, “but if you stay here long enough I’ll drive here by car!”

“Oooohhh diss!” Bambam laughed.

They were sitting around a table in the common room and playing cards. Jinyoung sat on the couch, reading a book and Mark caught himself looking over a lot. He didn’t really like playing cards and he’d want to know what book Jinyoung was reading.

“Earth to Mark!” Bambam slapped his arm a little, “Your turn!”

“That’s why you’re always losing…” Yugyeom sighed, “You need to concentrate!”

So Mark concentrated and he imagined hearing Jinyoung on the couch laugh silently when Mark thumped his last card onto the table only a minute later, a victorious smile on his face.

Yugyeom and Bambam looked at him defeated.

“Were you winning the whole time?” Bambam whined.

“Nope. Just luck with the last cards.” Mark smiled, “You gave me one of them, Yugyeommie.”

“I don’t care,” Yugyeom said, “I’m here to visit Bambam anyway.”

Mark laughed and he looked over to Jinyoung and that one secretly gave him thumbs up, as if to say “Well done!”

Just when they wanted to start a new round, one of the guardians came in.

“Time for weighing, Bambam.” And Bambam stood up with a dramatic sigh to follow the young man into the doctor’s room.

“How’s he doing?” Yugyeom asked with a worried expression on his face.

“I don’t know. I think he stopped drinking liters of water before weighing.” Mark mumbled. “You should ask him yourself.”

 

Yugyeom had to get his train back after another hour of talking and playing. Mark didn’t like saying goodbye, even though he knew he’d see him again soon. There was just something really depressing about letting your little brother go into the world, free and grown up, while Mark still had to ask a guardian to join him, when he wanted to go for a walk.  
Bambam didn’t like saying goodbye either.

Meal times were the worst for Bambam and Mark hated watching him eat. It was so painful to see him at war with the food on his plate and it was sad to catch him sneaking some of it under the table and into his pockets instead of eating it.  
He was glad that Jackson didn’t catch him doing it, because that one always had a lecture ready after he told the guardians about it.  
Mark didn’t tell anyone about it.  
He looked at Bambam and that one just managed a sad smile, as if to apologize for being so good at destroying himself.  
But it wouldn’t get him far, because he had a deal with his doctor and if his weight would drop further he would be transferred into another hospital.

-

“Do you not care if you have to go?” Mark asked him after they finished eating. He stood in the doorframe of the toilets and watched Bambam emptying his pockets into it.

“That’s not it…” Bambam said quietly, “I’m afraid of ending up in the emergency room again… but I’m just more afraid of eating.”

Mark nodded.

“Next weekend… a friend of mine is visiting me,” Bambam turned around and started washing his hands, “and the last time she saw me I was a lot thinner than now. And I don’t want her to see me like this.”

“Like what?” He finally asked when Bambam didn’t start talking again.

“Like this,” he looked down his body, “fat.”

Mark looked at his face through the mirror.  
His skin fallow and a little fluff of hair on his cheeks and around his eyebrows and his mouth. The kinda fluff, little babies have to protect their vulnerable skin.  
And his body hadn’t changed visibly, but Mark knew that he was on the way to recovery. His hipbones were still standing out like weapons and Mark could probably reach around both of his wrists with one hand, but according to the numbers he was getting better. And the whole station kept track of his numbers. Jackson always encouraged Bambam to tell them, when he gained weight. Then there’d be group hugs and congratulations. Mark wasn’t sure if that was more helpful or stressing, because at the end of the day it was Bambam who had to live in this body.

And Mark wanted to tell him that he was not fat and he wanted to tell him that he was the opposite of that and how painful it was to look at his little body.  
But was all that true?  
It wasn’t truer than Bambam looking in the mirror and seeing fat and it wasn’t truer than the fear in his tiny body, when dinner time started.  
If he told him that he wasn’t fat, that would just be two truths colliding and he didn’t wanna cause hurt just to prove that his truth was better for Bambam.  
So he just took Bambam’s bony hand inside his and squeezed it a little.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you again.” He said.  
And Mark caught himself simply answering to end the topic and it made him feel a little sick inside. He did what he hated so much. He ended a topic that wasn’t his, just because it was uncomfortable.

 

**7 Days With You**

It was on a Sunday evening, after the End-of-the-week group, when Jackson announced he’d be discharged in two days.

“I finally convinced Mrs. Stevens that I’m alright.” He grinned at Mark. They sat in the hallway, leaning against the wall between their and Jaebum and Youngjae’s room. It was phone-time, so everyone had their phone for an hour, but Mark didn’t even bother to get his from the staffroom. He was so used to not having it, that he wouldn’t even know what to do with it, if he had it.  
Jinyoung sat opposite from them, playing on his old flip phone, a quiet electro beat sounding through. Mark smiled at the sight. It was such an old model and he was so concentrated. Jackson was chatting with three different friends while he talked to Mark.  
“I can’t wait to stay out after 6PM.” He said, while his fingers flew over the touch screen. “And I can’t wait to sleep in and eat whenever I want to.”

Mark hummed.

“Don’t you miss that at all?” Jackson asked.

“I haven’t really thought about it.”

And it was true. Life at home had mostly just been hell for him, so he found it difficult to miss any of it. He couldn’t quite share Jackson’s enthusiasm, but he found it amazing.  
Mark couldn’t think of anything that would make him enthusiastic. He wasn’t even sure if he knew the feeling at all.  
There was Jinyoung, but he didn’t make him enthusiastic. He mostly made him feel saner, like a bridge from his little bubble to the outside world.  
He smiled when that one mumbled muffled curses and the melody on his phone was interrupted by an electric voice that said “Game Over.”

 

**5 Days With You**

When Mark got told about the parent’s therapy session on Friday, the anxiety made him rush into the bathrooms. Jackson had been discharged three hours ago and it was all too much.  
Mark tried not to show it when he couldn’t breathe while Jackson hugged him goodbye. He buried his fingers in Jackson’s sweater, but he let go as soon as Jackson did.  
We wanted to tell him to stay.  
Wanted to say, don’t go.

“We stay in touch, Tuan.” He had smiled, “I’m gonna call you.”  
-

Mark wasn’t quite sure how he ended up kneeling in front of one of the toilets, looking down into the clear water and mumbling words over and over again. He had been so sure he needed to throw up, but nothing was coming. His throat felt like there were two strong hands around it, choking him and his sight got blurry.

“Jinyoung…Jinyoung…” he heard his own voice whisper.

“I’m here.” Jinyoung said and Mark wasn’t surprised to hear him. Jinyoung had a feeling for when mark needed him and he was the first one on the station to sense one of Mark’s panic attacks coming. So he was there to rub comforting circles on Mark’s back like the day he was submitted and his calm voice repeated phrases that Mark couldn’t make out the meaning of.

“I’m gonna die.”Mark felt another wave of panic wash over him. “I’m gonna go crazy, Jinyoung.”

“You’re safe, Markie” Jinyoung said, “I’m here.”

“’I’m sorry Jinyoungie.” Mark cried now. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.” The tears were streaming down his face now and Mark tried to close his eyes and he didn’t look at Jinyoung, but there was still his hand on his back and it was so comforting.

“It’s nobody’s fault, Markie.”

 

**4 Days With You**

Mark couldn’t put a finger on it.  
He hated the way a simple appointment for a simple therapy session made his whole body act up like it was preparing for a war. He was feeling worse by the hour and there were still two days to go until his parents would join his therapy session.

He sat in the showers with Jinyoung and that one had his arms wrapped around him. The warmth of his body was like a blanket over him and Mark sat there, curled up and let himself be hugged.  
He didn’t want to open his eyes again, he didn’t want to think about a thing, but the thoughts were bombarding his peace.  
They were everywhere and his body felt weak and tensed at the same time.

“What if they tell me I have to go?” Mark whispered into Jinyoung’s arms.

“They’re not gonna force you to leave.”

“But I’ve been here too long. I need to be discharged at some point.”  
Jinyoung loosened his arms around him and he looked Mark in the eyes. Then his features got softer.  
He stroked a strand of hair out of Mark’s face.

Mark wanted to tell him about the flames that slowly burnt off his skin and about the pain in his head and the hands around his throat and he wanted to tell Jinyoung that there were all these strings inside of him and he wanted to tell him- tell somebody- that he could feel more of them ripping in two, but his mouth was too dry to give those words a sound.

 

**3 Days With You**

Mark sat on the table across from Jinyoung’s work-bank in the Garden house. He was putting a bouquet together and he took his time deciding which colors needed to be together.  
Mark watched his every decision closely and he told him whenever he didn’t like the decision he made.  
“It needs to feel right.” Mark explained. “Put in that one.”

And Jinyoung smiled at him, as if he was a riddle that didn’t want to be solved.

“Like this?” He asked and arranged the flowers in a new, exiting way.

“Yeah… doesn’t it feel better?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Jinyoung worked mostly in silence and Mark watched him and the only noise was the laughter from the other patients somewhere in the garden and a few birds that sang along to secretive melodies.  
It was the kind of peace Mark only felt in the garden.  
The kind of calm that made him feel more grounded and real than ever.  
  
When he looked at the flowers and when he smelled all the herbs, which they had hung up to dry on the ceiling of the little house, he felt alive without questioning it.  
He couldn’t wait until the herbs were ready to make tea out of them. Mr. Hayes' self made tea was the best Mark had ever tried.  
It was like medicine.  
He wanted to see Jinyoung’s face when he tasted it for the first time.

 

**2 Days With You**

Mark couldn’t sleep.  
He stared at the silhouette of Youngjae in the other bed in his room. Youngjae had claimed Jackson’s bed after his discharge and after Jaebum had explained that he wanted the one-bed room.  
He looked so calm and Mark wondered what he was dreaming.

His chest felt tight and his hands were sweaty, when he thought about the parent’s session with Dr Stevens the next day.  
It was hard enough for him to manage his own sessions, but having his parents and sometimes his little brother sitting in the small room with them, just made his anxiety grow.  
And there were lots of things to discuss. Things Mark didn’t dare to think of alone, but things he wasn’t ready to discuss with others.  
He wasn’t ready for the questions.

And he thought about Jinyoung and he wished he was there with him now in his bed, under the sheets and he wished he would rub warm circles onto his back and he wanted to meet him in the showers but it was the middle of the night and he was like pinned to the bed, unable to move.

But there were storms inside of him and dark clouds.  
And as if to balance out those dry storms inside of him, it started raining outside.  
Mark listened to the sound of rain dribbling against the grids and the window and he stood up and forced his feet to walk over to the window, trying not to wake Youngjae up.

He didn’t have a direct view to the lake, not like from the showers, but he could see it when he opened the window and pressed his face uncomfortably against the grid. He stared into the darkness of trees and houses around the lake.  
He’d like to be down there now and maybe watch the raindrops drawing little patterns into the water, but his nose started to get cold and with a sigh he closed the window again.  
When he crawled back into the warmth of his sheets, his storms had calmed down a little.

 

 **1 Day With You  
**  
Mark wasn’t able to eat a thing and his stomach turned when he looked at the breakfast in front of him. He stared at Mrs. Kim, who didn’t even know that the coffee in her hands was a luxury and that Mark would have done anything to trade it for the toast on his plate.  
Patients weren’t allowed to drink coffee, but that didn’t mean the guardians didn’t enjoy doing just that in front of their faces, so he watched how she mindlessly sipped on it, while the only thing that kept Mark awake was his growing anxiety. His body felt weak and his mind was exhausted.

At four o’clock his parents hugged him and Mark still hadn’t eaten a thing. Their hugs were suffocating, crushing. Everything but comforting.  
Mark excused himself to the bathroom and he saw Yugyeom’s eyes following him, as he tried not to rush, but he swore he had to throw up and he didn’t want to do it in front of his whole family.  
From the corner of his eye he saw Jinyoung’s worried glance.

“It’s okay.” He mouthed in his direction, before he quickly went into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself.  
He could handle this.  
Mark had handled this many times before.  
Like always, he didn’t throw up and like always he didn’t look into the mirror, because he didn’t look good during a panic attack.  
Nobody did.  
He wasn’t even sure if it was a panic attack. It felt more like the anxiety of days breaking down over him and forcing him to his knees, grabbing the toilet-bowl as if it was a life ring.  
It was okay.  
He wondered if he would have thrown up if he had eaten anything.  
And he was already calmer again, when he heard a knock on the bathroom door and Dr. Stevens' voice.

“Can we start, Mark?”

“Yes.”

The first ten minutes of their talk were the same old procedure as usual and he nearly felt like he repeated words that he had spoken many times before.  
About his clinic-life. About how he definitely found his place in the group and about how things were easier since Jinyoung was there.  
His parents looked more at Mrs.: Stevens than at him, as if what he had to tell wasn’t reliable or as if he would tell them lies. He couldn’t blame them. There hadn’t been a single session in which he didn’t downplay his symptoms and he tended to paint his health in pretty warm colors and he didn’t mention the strings that kept ripping inside of him.

He spaced out for a while, when Mrs. Stevens told them about different medications and how she thinks he should stay on the ones he’s on.  
Mark didn’t really care. He usually just took whatever they had to give him, because that way he at least felt like he was doing something, like he was cooperating, like he was doing the most to get better.

Then the scary questions started and his heart was pumping faster and there was that familiar lump in his throat and he wondered if any of them saw his hands shaking, even though he had them clenched to fists underneath the table.

“How are the therapies going?”

“Good. I like the garden.” He said, “I like art therapy. It calms me down.”

“I noticed, yes.” Dr. Stevens said, “you‘ve become calmer.”

Then there was a short silence and Mark didn’t like it.  
The air vibrated with misery. The atmosphere and the looks on his parents faces, as if they knew something he didn’t- it was never a good sign.

“I want to share an idea with you, Mark.” Dr. Stevens finally said, “I talked to your parents about it a few weeks ago and we think it might be a good next step.”

“What.” Mark mouthed the word, no sound coming out, the lump in his throat trapping the noise.

“Maybe you have heard of assisted living…”

Mark’s stomach started to churn up.  
No.  
He could feel a string ripping in two inside of him.

“There are constitutions, where people with mental illnesses and disabilities can live…”

No.  
No.  
No.  
Please no.

And another string.

“And they’re really good, similar to this hospital…”

The strings kept ripping and it scared Mark. It hurt and it was out of his control. He wanted to reach inside of his mind and tell them to stay connected, wanted to hold them together with all of his strength, but one after the next just gave in to the pressure.  
The sick feeling in his stomach came back and Mark looked at his parents, searching for something- anything to hold on to.  
They just looked at him a little bit worried, but way too calm. As if the decision was made.  
As if the decision had never been Mark’s.  
And Yugyeom looked at the table, as if he just did not want to be here. As if he didn’t understand why his brother had to be taken away from him again.  
And the fear started to eat on his organs and he was convinced he would throw up any moment.  
  
“But I’m feeling better.” Mark breathed out. He wasn’t sure if anyone heard him. But Dr. Steven’s voice got softer.

“That’s why we thought it might be a good time…”

If you had asked Mark what the rest of the conversation consisted of, he couldn’t have told you.  
He had only heard the static in his head and the sound of all those connections being torn apart. The strings that were there for damage control.  
Those for self-protection.  
The strings that had the word _no_ in them.  
Any string that had his ability to talk in it.  
Ripped.

Far away from his consciousness he heard his parents and his doctor talking about the potential of those constitutions and he heard them talking about possible dates of discharge and it felt like Mark was glued to his chair, forced to listen, unable to intervene.  
He was not sure if he said something. Did he say no? He doubted it.  
No was a word that tasted especially shameful and he never got it over his lips.  
He was pretty sure that his family didn’t even notice the battle inside of him and the pain, because he didn’t move and he didn’t say a word.  
Maybe he even smiled.

As soon as they were gone, he locked himself into the toilet.  
He didn’t know if he was in there for five minutes or fifty and reality started to fade away from him. He was scared, he felt delivered and his chest felt painfully tight. So tight that he couldn’t even cry. He just found himself rocking back and forth, sitting on the toilet seat and he closed his eyes because the sight of the white walls irritated his brain.  
He nearly jumped, when he heard the door to the bathrooms open.

“Markie… what happened?”

It was Jinyoung’s voice that made him cry.  
That calming, worried voice.  
He let him in and as soon as he opened the door, he was buried in his warm arms and pressed against his body and that same soft voice kept repeating reassuring phrases like poetry and it didn’t matter that Mark didn’t believe a single word.  
He just ran out of tears at some point.

 

“If you could be anywhere…” Jinyoung said, when he sat opposite of him, on the dirty bathroom floor, while Mark sat on the toilet seat, “where would you want to be?”

 _Dead_. He thought.

“In the barn by your house.” He said and Jinyoung smiled.

“And if you could be anywhere, but nearer than that…”

Mark looked at him.

“I want to go to the lake down the hill…” Mark said, “I’ve been there with the others, but I want to go there with you.”

“Then let’s go there...”

“I’m not allowed to go with you- I already asked them.”

Jinyoung looked at Mark for a moment and Mark couldn’t read the excited spark in his eyes.

“Then let’s go when they do transmission.” Jinyoung whispered, “The doors should still be open.”

Mark’s heart was racing.  
Sneaking out?  
With Jinyoungie?

“You can get thrown out for that, y’know…” Mark mumbled.

“They want to throw you out anyway.” Jinyoung smiled sadly, “Just one time, before we have to say goodbye.”

That was what made Mark forget about the consequences. How did consequences matter if he was with Jinyoung?  
How did being a disappointment affect him, if Jinyoung wanted to go to the lake with him?  
Why would anything in the world matter, when his mind and his life and everything inside of him was already in pieces.  
Mark knew he had to go with him.

-

Two hours later, when the guardians went into the staffroom to update the night watch on what happened during the day, most of the patients were in the common room.  
Some of them in their rooms.  
  
But Mark and Jinyoung met in the hallway, right at the entrance.  
There were only two cameras Mark knew of and he knew where the monitor in the staffroom was.  
He was pretty confident that nobody checked it during transmission. And he was pretty confident that there was nobody at the reception after 6pm.

He looked at Jinyoung and that one smiled, calm as ever, just a little bit of mischief in his eyes. It reminded him a lot of the expression on his face, when they had been six years old and jumped down the fence together, that separated Jinyoung’s parent’s back yard from the woods behind it.  
Like now, they had been strongly forbidden to cross that line.  
And like then, they crossed that line together.

As soon as they had closed the heavy glass door to the staircase behind them, making minimal noise, Mark took a deep breath.  
His heart was racing.  
Then Jinyoung took his hand and they slowly and carefully made the first few steps down, but as soon as they had reached the first curve, they started running. Jinyoung’s hand was warm and tight around Mark’s and he dragged him behind himself quickly, but Mark could keep up.

When they stood in the lobby, Mark held Jinyoung back, forced him to stop for a moment.  
“There’s the camera.” He whispered, pointing at a big, visible camera that was directed to the big entrance to the hospital.

“Okay.” Jinyoung said,”Then quickly!”

They ran towards the entrance and when Mark pulled at the door, it didn’t move. He tried pushing it.

“Shit.” He cursed, before he pulled Jinyoung out of the monitored zone again. “I have another idea.”

Mark knew the hospital. He had lived there for months and he was barely allowed to leave it alone, so he knew every last corner of it.  
He took Jinyoung by the hand and this time it was him who was dragged behind.  
They ran towards the basement, the only other exit Mark knew of, that let you out on the base of the hospital. This way they didn’t have to walk down the whole hill, either.  
And the door was open.

 

A minute later, they were running down the hill together, on the broad road, leaving all the guardians' parked cars behind them and when they reached the first curve, they were finally completely out of sight and slowed down a little.

“Oh god.” Mark breathed, “I need a break.”

“No breaks if you want to arrive before they start searching.”

He was right.  
Transmission didn’t last forever and they would know that something’s up as soon as the night watch checked the rooms, like they always did.  
So he started running again.

-  
The air was cooling down and Mark was a little bit cold in his sweater, but it was okay.  
They sat on a log at the lake and it was so pretty when nobody was around.  
Jinyoung reached inside the pocket of his jacket and when Mark’s eyes followed him, he saw that he had a handful of candy in his palm.  
Jinyoung grinned proudly.  
He sneakily gave them to Mark and that one held them in his hands.  
This time he felt like actually eating them. Not even Jinyoung was able to fill the hole inside his stomach.  
The trees looked over the boys like guards and their huge dark trunks and leaves looked comforting and protective more than intimidating.  
The moon was barely visible, but now and then, when the clouds moved a little, Mark could see its reflection like a sickle on the water.

“It’s so beautiful.“ Jinyoung sighed.

Suddenly the sadness reached for Mark again.  
For a few minutes, while he was running down that hill and while the adrenaline exploded in his veins, he had thought he could leave the illness behind, if his feet just moved fast enough.  
But everything came back to him and those cruel hands slowly wrapped themselves around his throat again and it got more difficult to breathe with the second.

They sat like that for an hour, maybe two.  
At some point Mark ate the candy and it tasted like nothing.  
Then it tasted like salt and Mark realized he was crying.

“Markie?” Jinyoung whispered and Mark felt him approaching.

“Sorry.” Mark said. “I’m sorry I’m ruining everything again.”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“I know.”

“I want to sit here with you forever, Jinyoungie.”

“I know. Me too.”

Mark didn’t know when his hand had found its way into Jinyoung’s. He could barely feel his grip. So he squeezed tighter.  
His stomach felt weird. He hadn’t eaten all day.

“Everything will be alright, Mark.”  
The use of his plain name was like a promise. He wanted to believe it more than anything.

“Mark.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever forget about me.” Jinyoung smiled and it looked so sad. Suddenly there was sadness streaming out of every pore of his body and Mark was scared.  
He squeezed his hand closer but he could barely feel him, needed to feel him closer.  
But couldn’t.  
“Don’t forget that I was here with you.”

“I won’t.” Mark promised.  
  
He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Could never forget Jinyoung, even if the world would force him to.

“I’m tired,” He said, “I feel weird, Jinyoungie.”

He lay down on the log, his head in Jinyoung’s lap. A warm hand was stroking over his hair like it was caressing the fur of a puppy.

“It’s okay.”

Mark jerked up, when they heard voices. People calling his name from far away.  
No.  
No.  
Not yet.  
He wasn’t ready to be found.  
He needed to be lost a little longer. Needed to be alone with Jinyoung a little longer.  
  
But the voices didn’t care and they were coming closer.

He felt the panic in his body, but he was exhausted and his head was hurting and there was that sick feeling again. He could barely lift his body from the log.  
But Jinyoung stood up.  
He looked at the silhouettes that came into sight. Then he looked at Mark.

“Mark.” He whispered, “Run away with me, Mark.”  
Mark was scared. The fear was in every inch of his body now.

He held Jinyoung’s hand, took the other one too, just in case he might slip through his fingers if he didn’t.  
Running away.  
He wanted to. Wanted to be with Jinyoung.  
But.

“There’s someone at the lake!”

Mark froze. It was his little brother’s voice. It was Yugyeom’s voice.

“Mark.” Jinyoung said, but when Mark looked at him, he knew Jinyoung understood, that he couldn’t.  
He couldn’t even move- how should he run away?  
“Don’t forget me, Markie.”

Mark’s body felt so heavy and there was a whirlwind in his chest and he felt the tears streaming down his face, but they didn’t feel real on his skin. Nothing did.

“No.” Mark said. Then again. And again. “Don’t.”

“I have to.” Jinyoung said with a pained expression on his face. “I don’t belong here.”

“It’s Mark.” He heard Yugyeom’s voice and out of the corner of his eye he saw the group of people quickly coming closer.

Jinyoung freed himself out of one of Mark’s hands and held his wrist in a tight grip instead.

“No… Jinyoung.”

He freed himself from his other hand, too.  
Then Mark felt Jinyoung's soft lips on his forehead, a short moment in which his heart seemed to stop beating and the leaves seemed to stop rustling and the people approaching him seemed to stop moving.

“Goodbye, Markie.” Jinyoung’s warm voice whispered and he sounded like peace, but Mark didn’t want peace. He was churned up and hurting and confused and he wanted Jinyoung to feel the same.

Then the moment was over and with one last glance at the group and then at Mark, Jinyoung turned around and started running and Mark tumbled after him a few steps, but his feet didn’t do their job, he nearly sank down to his knees, while he watched Jinyoung’s figure getting smaller and smaller in the distance and when Yugyeom reached Mark, Jinyoung had disappeared into the black forest.

Yugyeom was panting and slowly getting closer. Then the rest of them arrived.  
Mark still looked into the woods.

“Mark, I’m so glad.” His mother was there, too.

He stumbled a little and then he actually fell to his knees. His sight got blurry and his body was so heavy. His eyes were burning.

“Jinyoung.”

“Mark oh my god!” someone yelled, “Mark, look at me!”

He tried to stand up and he managed it after a few tries and then he turned around. He could barely make out their faces, because the tears blurred his sight.

“What did you take?” A voice tore him back to reality. It sent shivers down his spine.

Mark didn’t understand, but then there were hands on his shoulders, grabbing him and repeating the question.

“Candy…Jinyoungie gave me candy.” He cried.

“How much of it did you eat?”

The grip on his shoulders got tighter and it hurt and Mark wanted to say that it hurt but his mouth was tired. There was stress in his veins. He felt like throwing up again.

“Mark, how much did you eat?” someone repeated with stress in their voice, right in front of his face and that tore him back to reality again.  
A guardian.  
His chest hurt.

“WHY DOES THAT MATTER?” he screamed, “Jinyoung ran away! What if he hurts himself, what if-“

“HE’S NOT GONNA DO ANYTHING, MARK!” Yugyeom yelled from his side, “BECAUSE HE’S NOT FUCKING REAL! Stop talking about him as if he’s still here with us.”  
  
Mark gulped. Suddenly everyone was silent.  
Mark didn’t understand  
He looked around and they all looked at him like maybe he was a grenade that would go off any moment. Why didn’t they look at his brother like that?  
Why didn’t they look at Yugyeom like he was crazy?  
Why did nobody say a thing?

“How can you say something like that?” he heard himself whisper, tears now heavy and real on his skin, “He’s my best friend.”

Mark’s chest felt tight. There was confusion and anger, but most of all fear. Something inside of him scared him to death. Something in Yugyeom’s eyes and something in the way the others looked at him.  
Heartbroken. Careful. Pitiful.  
“He’s in your head, Mark,” Yugyeom sobbed, “and he’s killing you!”

Mark couldn’t see clearly, his tears blinding him and the dizziness and aching in his body making his view go black again.  
He needed all his strength and concentration to stay conscious.

“No…” Mark mumbled, “That’s not true…he’s my best friend.”

When Yugyeom wanted to talk again, someone stopped him.  
“Enough now.”

“Why?” Yugyeom cried and Mark saw out of the corner of his eye how he harshly slapped a therapist’s hand from his shoulder. “He was my friend, too!”

Mark could barely follow his words.  
The sobs shook his chest and he stumbled backwards. His brother scared him and he wanted away from him. Away from his family and away from his therapists, who didn’t even care about Jinyoung.  
He wanted to run away, like Jinyoung had.  
But his body didn’t follow. The pain in his chest and the sickness made him gag. His mouth was getting watery.

He turned away and threw up. Mostly gall. His throat aching and his legs shaking.  
Then he felt strong arms supporting him. It had to be his dad, because the voice sounded familiar, even though he had never heard it vibrating with silent sobs.

“Make it stop.” Mark heard himself whimper, when he had nothing more to gag up.  
“Bring him back, my Jinyoungie…” He cried and the words tasted so bitter on his tongue.  
Jinyoung was so far gone.  
There was no way he could reach him now.  
And Mark recited his name like a mantra, while he slowly lost control over his body and the stinging flashy pain took over.

“Why isn’t the ambulance here yet?” He heard his mother’s panicky voice ask and two calmer voices spoke to her and then there was another pair of hands, supporting his body weight and someone was talking to him, but Mark was drifting away from the words.  
He kept repeating Jinyoung’s name and when his mouth didn’t follow anymore, he kept thinking it instead. And then there were sirens, far away, accompanying his thoughts like a comforting melody, before the whole world turned black.  
  
  
**Day 1 Without You**

When Mark woke up, the first thing he thought was Jinyoung’s name. He opened his eyes and searched for him, but he wasn’t there.  
His mother and Yugyeom were there.

“Is Jinyoung here?” He heard himself ask. Something in him makes his words feel wrong, his question like a lie. But that made no sense, so he ignored the feeling.

“No.” Yugyeom said.

“Did they find him?” Mark wanted to know.

“I think so, yeah.”

“It wasn’t his idea to sneak out,” Mark quickly said.

Yugyeom’s smile was tired.

“I know, Mark…listen… I’m here to say bye.”

 

-

  
The hospital he should be transferred to was even further away from home than the last one and it was a closed station. No chance to sneak out and no chance to hurt himself or others.  
Mark was exhausted. This time he really wasn’t the one who made the decision.  
He assured everyone many times that he didn’t intend to kill himself.  
That he was just a bit out of it that day. He didn’t tell them that he had no memory of taking any pills in the first place.  
It was blurry.  
Everything in his head was blurry.  
Everything but Jinyoung.  
  
-

And he missed him. Nobody really told him where he was right now. Every night when he fell asleep in this newer, whiter room, in that strange bed with cold sheets, he hoped that he was save. Hoped that he was out there and that the universe took good care of him.  
  
-  
  
It was after one week in the new hospital that he remembered what happened at the lake. Nothing made sense to him. He cried a lot and he felt sick a lot and he didn’t talk to anyone of the other patients.

It was after two weeks in the new hospital, that the blur started to fade away and that he started seeing things clearer. He started to feel numb more than anything, but his mind started to gather information, it started to sort things out. Mark talked to one or two patients and when they gave him his meds he felt like throwing up.  
  
It was after three weeks in the new hospital that he remembered.  
He broke down and looking back on it, he spent most of his days in bed, sometimes crying, sometimes desperately trying to breathe but barely sleeping.

-

And it was after six weeks in the new hospital that he talked about Jinyoung for the first time.

His new therapist was a man with friendly eyes and wrinkles around them and around his mouth. Mark liked him a lot.  
Fifteen minutes into their session, Mark’s concentration started to fade, like it often did.  
There were two new postcards on the wall behind his therapist.  
Mark was looking at them, trying to figure out what the words on them said, when his warm voice claimed back his attention.

“What kind of person is Jinyoung?” he asked, “tell me more about him.”

And for the first time in forever, Mark started to talk about Jinyoung.  
So far, Jinyoung had been only _his_ and he feared, if he shared him with others, they would take him away from him. But now Jinyoung was so far gone and now he had left him again and Mark simply missed his presence so much, that he started talking.  
What did he have to lose?

“Jinyoungie is my best friend... I’ve known him since kindergarten…”

He told him about how he met him on his first day of kindergarten and how Jinyoung was the only kid that talked to him, even though he was crying the whole day. How he shared his toys with him and how he took care of him since that day.

He told him about the day they sneaked out of the back yard and climbed over the fence and how they nearly got lost in the woods. And how they were forbidden to meet after that, but how Jinyoung sneaked out to climb through his window anyway.

Mark also told him about the night in the barn and how cold it was and how it was a really stupid idea, but how it was one of his favorite memories, because Jinyoung was there with him.

And he told him about the day in fourth grade, when they played soccer with Yugyeom and a few other kids near Jinyoung’s home and how Jinyoung was the best soccer player of all of them and how he was the fastest runner in the whole school and then he told him that he was trying to catch up with him, but the distance between them just got bigger and when Jinyoung ran towards the street, Mark was the only one who saw the car coming.

Mark sat in his chair, his arms wrapped around his waist loosely and his face wet. He could barely see his therapist through the heavy veil of tears.

“Have you ever talked about this?” the man asked.

“I didn’t remember it… It was like it didn’t happen.” Mark said, his voice not more than a whisper, “and when he came back I was so relieved.”  
His therapist hummed.

“Why do you think he came back?”

Mark thought about it for a moment, about the way Jinyoung had hugged him and about the things he had said.

“I think he needed to say goodbye.” Mark said, tears still rolling down his cheeks, “And I think he wanted to take care of me one more time…and I think…he was scared I would forget him. He even asked me to go with him…but I didn’t.”

“You chose life.” His therapist said.

“I did.”

-

  
_I figured it out, Jinyoungie. I finally figured it out._  
_And I will figure this life out and I will live for you._  
_And I will never forget that you were here with me._

And Mark felt the first two strings connecting inside of him.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was so hard for me to write. Both technically and emotionally.  
> I am not sure if I managed it the way I wanted. I am not sure if I am happy with how it came out to be.
> 
> So please, tell me what you feel/think about it! It would mean the world. <3


End file.
